


The Exciting Adventures of Tiny Paul

by deeblue



Category: Help! (1965), The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, M/M, McLennon, Protectiveness, blink and you'll miss starrison, john want paul to be saFE, paul is smoL, tiny paul au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 12:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19006210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deeblue/pseuds/deeblue
Summary: Paul gets into some trouble after shrinking down, and John just wants to protect his little Paul.





	The Exciting Adventures of Tiny Paul

**Author's Note:**

> This based on art from @macca-is-art on tumblr!  
> Absolutely gorgeous!!! Please check it out. this is based on this piece-
> 
> https://macca-is-art.tumblr.com/post/184608697591/ok-its-done-sorry-if-its-so-long-if-it-bothers#notes
> 
> based on if Paul didn't quite shrink back as quickly as he did in Help!

Ringo was fast asleep in the comfortable beddings of Her Majesty’s cool satin pillows. This moment may have been the only instance in the last few days that he appeared to be able to sleep again without any strange nightmares or just not sleeping at all in fear of getting nabbed while his eyes are closed. With a murderous cult and a pair of kooky scientists after him. Getting shacked up at Buckingham Palace was probably the most well deserved hide away he needed.

On the outside it seemed all was normal. In fact, Ringo was in such a deep sleep he hadn’t even noticed George detangle his arms from his waist and get up to take a piss, which typically made him whine, or at least stir. He finally perceived that in such comfortable quarters, and with the extensive security, he would certainly be safe from any outside dangers that could be praying on him.

Unfortunately, Ringo wasn’t quite as “safe” from the  _ inside _ dangers. One in particular, being the small bassist currently taking notice to George’s bathroom departure…

Since Paul’s mishap with the shrinking syringe. The boys came to realize, very quickly that a Tiny Paul was  _ big _ problem. Paul may have shrunk indefinitely for the time being, and despite his small stature and increased vulnerability (which John pointed out repeatedly). Paul managed to make most of his situation and have a bit of “fun” with it…

In this case, with a unconscious Ringo.  Paul quickly took his chance once he saw George close the bathroom door. Sneakily, Paul wiggled his way out of his makeshift bedding- one of John’s clean socks folded on the nightstand. He peered over his shoulder to the opposite bed, and sure enough John was fast asleep.

Tightening the grip on his gum wrapper, Paul stood over at the edge of the nightstand to the two inch gap before him, which- at his height appeared more like five feet.

Paul took a quick breath and without wasting anymore time, leaped from the nightstand to the sheets of Ringo’s bed.

He was enveloped in the satiny softness of the Queen finest thread count. He finally understood why the lads had been sleeping so blissfully since arriving to Buckingham Palace. It was 10 times more comfortable than John’s crummy sock.

_ Lucky bastards. _

Paul stood on the sheets to see Ringo, his target, sprawled out under his covers. Lifting up an edge, Paul slipped underneath, completely undetected…

Ringo’s good night sleep only could have lasted so long. Without a word of warning, Paul’s little feet were using Ringo’s stomach as a catwalk to which he could sashay across.

The lad jolted awake as his leg and abdomen involuntarily spasmed at the ticklish sensation creeping up and down his torso. Immediately, the cover was jerked away, and Ringo frantically searched for what had tickled him so suddenly. It wasn't till he felt the sensation again on his thigh that he realized what the cause of these ministrations was. 

Of course, he only realized that after he had given  _ it _ a swat with his bejeweled hand, and saw it fly across the room into the nearby couch.

“Shit! Paul?” Ringo sat up on the edge of the end bed, squinting in the dark guest room for the tiny Beatle.

Ringo heard a stirring coming from the other bed.

“....P...aul? What ‘bout Paul?” A grumbly John murmured from his pillow on the bed directly beside Ringo’s. John was barely awake given he was a deep sleeper, but- the sound of Paul’s name was enough to get him conscious at most. John’s eyes pried open to the night stand between him and Ringo and immediately noticed the empty sock.

It was like he turned a switch. John sprung forth from his bed in a crazed panic.

“WHAT- Ringo, where’s Paul?”

Ringo was already standing up inspecting the couch cushions for any sign of him, avoiding John’s eyes as well as he could, either because of how tired he was or not wanting to see the guitarist's panic turn on him.

“He was in me bed, I think? Gave me a real-”

“Your bed! You  _ crushed _ Paul? You crushed Paul in the bed?!” John went wide eyed, taking a step back to steady himself with the night stand.

“No I haven’t crushed im’! I must of just hit him or something. I could’ve sworn I saw him on the couch.”

“Hit him! You daft git! What’d you do that for? You know he’s small now, what if he’s hurt or-” 

“I didn’t do it on purpose John!”

“Well where is he then!”

“I’m trying to figure that out! If you’d stop yelling and help me look-”

The tiny fellow in question watched as the two argued. John reprimanding Ringo about how “delicate” he was and how easily he could get squashed.

The two were arguing so much they hadn’t even noticed Paul practically in stitches behind a discarded throw pillow. He was having a big laugh as John’s face fumed with panic after George stepped out of the bathroom unaware of what on earth they could be fighting about at 2 in the morning.

“Not another step Harrison!”

Tiny Paul knew how to have his own fun, and how to keep the lads on their toes for a few hours.

 

___________________

 

 The Palace, even in all it’s royal glory, had been a bust. Apparently not even the queen's guards could protect the infamous Beatles.  The police of Scotland Yard now lazily were keeping track of the lads as they attempted to go about their day.

With a killer cult after Ringo, Paul in his still unrelenting miniature state, and the constant hiding from country to country, the boys took to the streets to frequent some pubs and shops. Since even the farthest getaway was foiled anyhow, they may as well stay on familiar ground.

John had Paul snug in his jacket pocket, as per usual, with Ringo and George in tow. They marked along the pavement past the next pub till John spotted some local entertainment. A rather loud group, playing bagpipes had caught his eye. John stopped in his tracks, and pointed ahead to them

“Look! A band!”

Paul’s antics may seem like a pretty great strength, in terms of an upper hand over his cautious bandmates, but John’s constant worrying was not without merit. Paul was much smaller, and though all 4 Beatles had been protected and sheltered in the last few days. Noticing, and keeping an eye on him was tedious. Being out an’ about in public was far more dangerous considering only the other 3 Beatles knew of Paul’s condition. It wasn’t as though every individual would be watching out lest the stumble upon a small Paul McCartney… unfortunately Paul was going to find this out the hard way.

“Boys! It’s too loud!” In John’s pocket, Paul’s little ears couldn’t quite stand those bolstering bagpipes as he un-curled himself from deep in the pocket void to peak out with his ears covered.

The other fellas may have found the band entertaining, but- from Paul’s view of the the nearest pipe he saw something fishy was in their midst. He pipe was… leaking? Red? Like red paint of some-

Paul was over the edge of the pocket seam when he saw the pipe suddenly sputter and squirt out a stream of paint at the direction of his friends.

“Guys! Hey! Watch out! John?” 

It was that damn cult! They had been duped again! George frightfully guided Ringo forward with a protective hand on his back, running from the scene, John right beside them, flashing a cheeky “Fuck you” smile behind as they all sprinted to the nearest pub.

Well…  _ almost _ all.

Paul had been so caught off guard in the initial sprint that he had fallen out of the side of John’s pocket and down onto the side pavement. He was completely panicked as his friend ran for dear life and disappeared from view.

“Come back! John! I’m here, please!” To no avail, Paul’s cries were drowned out, and his mates were long gone, currently too preoccupied by being chased to notice Paul was now stranded.

The terrified Beatle was enveloped by busy pedestrians who probably couldn’t tell him apart from a crumpled gum wrapper. Curling in on himself, he was left in utter shock unable to move. Body just hoping and praying that in the next moment he wouldn’t be trampled by a neighboring high heel. The tiny lad shivered and shook with tears brimming in his eyes.

_ John left. He left me. _

John had become Paul’s protector in a way these last few days whether Paul admitted it or not. Always so attentive and snippy about keeping Paul safe. Paul hadn't realized how much he needed John till this moment. How reliant he was on him.

Paul felt the concret go cold and dark. A shadow came over his small little body, probably a shoe coming to smash him like a little bug, a meaningless little thing to kill without a second thought, a small nasty  _ Beetle  _ on the street-

“M-Macca?”

In a fearful whisper, John cradled Paul in the palms of his hands, looking down to see the bassist tearfully open his eyes.

“Is he alr-” George didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Paul began to cling to Johns shirt.

He couldn’t help but to sob uncontrollably against him. Letting out the smallest tears onto John’s red dress shirt.

John hadn’t even noticed his own tears fall out of worry and self resentment. He couldn’t help but cry when he saw Paul quivering and sobbing in his very own hands.

“I’m so sorry Macca...”

John let the tears fall. That- or maybe he hadn’t noticed he was crying in the first place, no matter the reason, Ringo and George could see the guilt in John’s eyes. Both laying hands on his arms for comfort as John gently rubbed the top of Paul’s head.

He may be  _ Paul McCartney _ , but even the great McCartney needs his Lennon…

 

__________________________________

 

That night, once tears were dried and were apologies made. Paul refused to leave John’s side. Not that John was complaining. After the incident, he couldn’t bare the idea of Paul alone tonight in his sock.

Though John was reassured it had been an accident, he still couldn't shake his being responsible. He had been so protective before, and hated the fact that he let this happen after being so forceful regarding his smol Paul. 

Paul was snug on John’s breast pocket now. Not having been the same since that afternoon, he was shaking with fear from on and off nightmares…

“Oh and This boyyy…” 

Whenever John woke from his dozing, to Paul’s shaking, he soothed him with loving touches in his soft hair and sang him back to rest.

It was the least he could do,

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!!!! I loVe commeNts!!!


End file.
